Prétendre
by StromLantern
Summary: Matthew, an average quite-invisible high schooler, and Francis, a famous model and soon-to-be actor.  Somehow, the two become a couple and attempt a regular high school romance while facing the struggles of both a high schooler and a celebrity.
1. Chapter 1

The school had been abuzz with gossip all day. Something about how some French model was filming a movie at their school. Mattie didn't care. He probably couldn't act worth crap. He was just there for his good looks. All this would mean for Matthew was that classes would be interrupted by the actors, the film crews and their entourage to portray a completely stereotypical and fabricated environment with emotions faker than reality and that was a hard thing to do, especially in high school. Their whole school had had to sign one of the forms conveying that it was all right to be in a film, leading to squeals from the female portion about being in a crappy movie with a hot guy. Matthew was at least slightly cynical about movies. As an actor, it was simple and even expected for him to criticize films. His slightly pessimistic personality made it harsh.

The teacher declared the class over, even though there was still fifteen minutes until the bell rang and Matthew pulled out his script, half- reading through his lines while doodling in the margins. He drew unflattering caricatures of each of the actors before going through and erasing all of them, not wanting anyone to see them and get offended. He didn't even know why he bothered to look over the script again. He could recite it in his sleep. Actually, according to Alfred, his annoying twin brother, he really did recite it in his sleep but that was apparently before the aliens abducted him so Matthew took whatever Alfred said with a grain of salt. Also the play was tomorrow night so if he didn't know his lines, he was, to put it bluntly, screwed. As well as the rest of the drama class, considering he was the lead.

It was an interesting story how Matthew got into drama in the first place. Alfred was supposed to be in drama; their parents had made him so that he could have an appreciation for the arts. Their mother had masterminded this; she was an artist from France. Alfred had the choice between art, music, and drama. He picked drama, no surprise, Alfred was known for his love of attention and inability to stop talking. But due to a mix up made by either their parents or the counselor's office, Matthew was placed in drama. After they got their schedules, Matthew was told to stay in Drama by their parents, saying that he needs to get over his shyness. Instead, Alfred learned how to play the drums.

Matthew had felt nervous at first about public speaking but after he had gotten past the dozens of eyes staring at him, it was nice. Matthew liked being able to be a completely different person, one where he wasn't his brother's shadow, as cliche as that may sound. Apparently, he was better than he though because when auditions came around, he ended up with the lead.

Matthew knew it didn't happen often but he was proud of himself and all the work he had put forward. He was scared for his parents to see it though. He liked to draw and paint but was to conscious of how terrible his art was compared to his others that all of his completed work was deposited in the closet where it would stay until it disintegrated. Alfred was more of the show-off; he played football, basketball, baseball and wresting and their parents went to all of his games Matthew managed to get out of going to most of them luckily. It felt nice that for once it was 'Matthew's rehearsal' instead of 'Alfred's practice.' He was glad to get attention but it made him even more nervous for the next day. Today, he had practice until eight which ad he noted with satisfaction was longer then Alfred's.

The bell rang and Matthew took a minute to organize his stuff before joining his classmates as they were liberated from the daily horror that was school. Matthew headed to his longer, quickly spinning the dial in its well- practiced rotation.

. . .

Francis lazily surveyed the school out of the limousine's window as they pulled up to the front. It was supposed to be a completely average high school. He wasn't sure whether every high school was this. . .dirty. Francis had wanted to film his first movie in his native land of France but his agent, a lady whom he very much enjoyed th ecompany of, insisted that high school movies were all the rage and therefore, he ended up here. He got out of the limo after the door was opened and was met by a nervous- looking principal. He was used to adults being in awe. The principal was saying something about a student guide and Francis smiled.

"I'll pick one," he interrupted, deliberately amplifying his French accent.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll choose." Francis ended the conversation and strode to the school doors. There was no way he was getting stuck with some ugly honor student for a guide. A beautiful person deserves to be surrounded by beautiful things, non? Francis gazed around predatorily at each person. A flash of blonde hair caught his interest and he looked in that direction and saw, upon closer inspection, a cute delicate blonde boy, putting his books into his locker.

Matthew was switching out his bugs when he felt the feeling of someone beside him.

"Bonjour, mon cheri," a voice purred in native French.

"I'm not a girl," came the response as another book was shoved into his locker.

"What? I never said you were. You are clearly a man as your lack of breasts suggest." The boy blushed.

"I'm still not your dear." Francis raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

"Parlez vous Francais?"

"Oui. Couramment. Ma mere est Francaise."

"Merveilleux."

"Now, if you excuse me I have somewhere to be."

"Ah, do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Girlfriend then?"

"No."

"Bonne. Now tell me your name." Matthew pulled a sheet of paper from his locker, a flyer of some sort and taped it onto the locker next to him.

"Matthew." Francis was immediately interested. He switched sides looking at the flyer.

"Ah, a school play. How quaint. And are you an actor? If you are, I'll be sure to attend." He looked back at the boy. He was gone.

. . .

Francis watched Matthew's awe inspiring performance. He had almost forgot what it meant to act, truly act with all your heart and while watching began to realize what he had been missing. Francis had wanted to be an actor but had gone into modeling for money so he was elated when the movie was proposed. And now, finally given an opportunity, he couldn't find a spark. Matthew had given him some hope and he knew that he had to become closer to the boy.

When the actors came out for bows, he was surprised when Matthew was not among them. He went to look for them, slipping behind the curtain through the chaos that came with a successful performance as congratulations were exchanged and photos taken. He came to the dressing room and had dismissed it as empty and had started out when he heard a stifled sob and headed to the source of the noise. He found Matthew with his knees to his chest, crying softly. Francis headed toward the sobbing boy.

"Mathieu, what's wrong?" A sniffle was his only response. Francis dropped to his knees and wrapped an arm around him. Francis pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to him. Matthew looked at the textile before taking it and wiping off the tears. "Mathieu, cette pièce de théâtre et surtout vous a été extraordinaire. The performance of a lifetime." Matthew sighed.

"It's not that."

"What is it then?" When no response was forthcoming, Francis tried to distract him. "Mathieu, there are lots of people who want to congratulate you. Why don't you go see them?" He broke into another fit of sobs.

"Not the people I want to be here," Matthew mumbled.

"Who, mon cher?"

"My family. They said they would. I left reminders, but they didn't come. They promised but then they forgot." Francis felt like this had happened before.

"Well, do you want to see all of the adoring fans?"

"No."

"Then what do you want to do?"

"I am going to to sit here and cry."

"Well, do you have a ride home?"

"No."

"I'll give you one. Come along, Mathieu." Francis got to his feet and pulled Matthew up, who was still sniveling. Matthew pulled away from Francis' arm.

"No, I don't want to face everyone."

"Is there a back way, mon cher?" Matthew nodded and let him to a door opening to the outside. Francis called his driver and gave him brief directions. The limo pulled up and Francis took pleasure in seeing the shocked look on Matthew's face. Francis helped him in, waving away the driver, then prompted Matthew for his address. Francis' driver was used to his conquests, male or female, stumbling into the car, mostly drunk, and probably, already undressing in the backseat, but he had never seen someone cry before. The driver sighed and started driving; it wasn't any of his business and he was being paid handsomely for both the driving and confidentiality.

Francis pulled Matthew closer to him, letting him rest on his shoulder, not bothering with seat belts. The thought of trying anything was completely out of his head. His main focus was making sure Matthew felt better. He started soothingly running his hands through Matthew's hair and rubbing calming circles on his back. Slowly Matthew calmed down and Francis started light conversation. Soon, they pulled up at Matthew's house. It was mistakable, just another house in the vast land of suburbia.

Francis helped Matthew out of the car and into the house. Matthew stared at the fridge angrily, ripping the flyer off and tearing it into pieces before throwing them into the trashcan. He swept through the house, grabbing post-it-notes off the remote, off the computer and off the doors with 'Play thursday at 6 :)' written on each. After all traces had been removed, Matthew collapsed in a chair, exhausted and crying not to cry. Francis saw this and tried to distract him.

"Mon cher, do you want to go clean the make up off?" Matthew nodded and padded into the bathroom. Francis took the opportunity to find Matthew's room, curious on what it was like. The first room he came to was messy, covered in sports posters and dirty laundry. He dismissed it and moved onto the next room which was plain with a large bookshelf and a really neat bed with a read comforter.

Francis smiled, this was Matthew's. He opened the closet door and his attention was piqued by the canvases at the bottom. He looked through and was impressed. Francis, being French, had a very refine taste in wine, food, love, and art and these paintings were impressive. Francis felt the hairs on his neck prickle and looked to see Matthew, glaring at him from the doorway with his hands on his hips. As much as the glaring boy sort of scared him, he was glad to see that he wasn't crying anymore.

"Oh, Matthew. Je suis desole. But you're very good."

"I''d appreciate it if you didn't go through my stuff."

"Vous êtes étonnant! Both art and drama." Matthew pursed his lips.

"Please come away from there." Francis put all the pictures back and followed Matthew into the kitchen. "Would you like something to eat?" Matthew offered politely. "Pancakes?" Francis nodded. It was clear he was making it for comfort for himself and Francis' primary goal was still to pick Matthew up and if eating his food would help, then he wouldn't eat it. Once he had to eat some completely blackened scones, but being drunk had made it slightly better. He somehow doubted Matthew's food was that bad. He walked into the kitchen and was instantly amused at the sight of Matthew tying on an apron. Matthew turned and saw Francis' face.

"I just don't want to get my costume dirty," he huffed cutely. Matthew turned and started to assemble ingredients. Francis was surprised that he was making them from scratch in the land of freedom, fried everything, microwavable meals. In about twenty minutes, Matthew pulled the pancakes of the stove and served them with a smile and a large dollop of maple syrup. Francis surveyed the food; it looked al dente but he nervously took a bite and to his surprise, these were the best pancakes he had ever had. And having been to many gourmet restaurants in France, that was quite high praise. He looked to see Matthew observing his reaction.

"Did you like them?"

"Bien sûr. Perfection. Best crêpes jamais." Matthew smiled. They finished their pancakes in the comfortable silence brought on by good food. After they had finished, Matthew broached the subject of Francis' leaving.

"Uh, Francis, tonight's a school night and its kind of past my curfew. No one's supposed to be here."

"Ah, of course, mon cher, will see you at school tomorrow. Bonne nuit."

"Bonne nuit." Francis showed himself out and got into the waiting limo while Matthew sat at the couch, turned on the television and did the homework he had neglected to do during the play and the days preceding. It was another hour before he heard the key turn in the lock and his family tromped in the front door.

'"Oh, hello Matthew. We'd thought you'd be in bed by now," his dad commented.

"I wanted to make sure you guys got home alright. Where'd you go?"

"The movie theater. We saw that one about the commies and the nukes."

"That's a lot of movies Al."

"Anyway, both of you need to get to bed now, There's school tomorrow." Alfred groaned something about homework while Matthew headed upstairs to bed. He didn't know whether he wanted them to remember and rush home, rife with apologies or whether he took satisfaction in the fact that they still haven't remembered. Some part of him wanted to see when they'd remember whether it be days or weeks or months, when it suddenly occurred to them and they turn to Mattie and ask him uneasily whether he was going to do the play soon. Matthew would nonchalantly reply that it was a while ago and that they forgot. They will immediately feel apologetic and try to make it up to him and he would be the center of attention for a while.

Then Matthew realized glumly that this would continue. Even if they felt bad, it would fade with time and son, they would forget about him again and this would continue for the rest of his life. Matthew now wanted to cry again with the sheer hopelessness of it all. This time, he busied himself with getting ready fro bed and tried to concentrate on anything but his family and of course, Francis.

. . .

. . .I have no idea why I'm writing a Franada fic. . .ah well. I already have 13,000 words written and I will continue posting periodically. Please review because this is my first serious yaoi fic and I really need commentary. I tried to make Matthew's view of high school plausible and let me know how I did on that. Basically I need constructive crit. My goal for this fic is to be more detailed character-wise and feeling-wise. Having never been on a date in high school(even though I'm a sophmore), I have no idea what people do(except for one time when I was the third wheel on my friends date to TacoTown. Can you say awkward?) So suggestions are welcome. Remember, I have a lot already written so if you review you encourage me to post more. So happy new year.


	2. Chapter 2

Matthew fell into a fitful sleep and woke up to the ring of his alarm clock. He briefly considered dismembering it and going forth and murdering its wife and children then realized that he was quite obviously sleep- deprived since he was debating killing his alarm clock, and its wife and children. He got ready for school and jumped into his brother's car because he didn't feel like walking to the bus stop. His murderous intent then expanded to his locker when it refused to open, leading to a internal conversation about whether lockers have children and how exactly would you go about murdering them. It could be said that Matthew had slightly homicidal tendencies in the morning. But so far, this urge has only extended to inanimate objects. . .and his brother.

In his first period, Matthew listened to the lecture and kind of- not really paid attention. When the phone rang and summoned one Matthew Williams- Jones to the front office, he kind of freaked out. On the way, he tried to think whether Alfred had done anything lately. Normally, the school called him when his brother got in trouble because both their parents worked and Matthew was just as good at discipling his brother as his parents. When he got to the office, he saw Francis talking amicably to the principal.

"Ah, Mathieu, bonjour."

"Bonjour."

"Ah yes, Mr. Williams- Jones, Mr. Bonnefoy has requested your services as a tour guide."

"Oui, I would prefer a guide to converse in my native language."

"Right, so Matthew, will you show him around and let him shadow you for as long as he needs."

"Um, yes."

"Grande. Now let us go." Francis swept Matthew, grabbing his hand and swept out of the room, without another word to the principal. Once they had moved into an adjoining hallway, Francis released Matthew's hand.

"Now, Mathieu, where shall we go?"

"Class, or I suppose you'll want a tour, oh French model that's bringing enough publicity to the school that the principal has to do whatever you say."

"Don't forget sexy."

"Fine, oh French model that thinks he's sexy."

"Oh, so you don't think I'm sexy?" he purred, stepping closer to Matthew, who backed up into a locker, making a loud clanging sound. Matthew blushed and looked at the floor. "Oh, I think you do." Matthew shook his head, refusing to look at Francis' face. "Well then, let me prove it to you." He leaned towards Matthew's blushing and cute face, placing both arms on either side of Matthew. His plan was to make this kiss unforgettable. Matthew looked up nervously to see Francis a few inches away and somehow, maybe, halfway, just in the heat of the moment, decided not to move for reasons he didn't know himself and just look into Francis' bright blue eyes and oh goodness he was so close, oh and they were going to kiss. Francis the model was going to kiss him, Matthew, Alfred's brother.

Francis hadn't noticed the bright shade of lavender- violet purple color and he was so close when there was a loud, ringing noise and hordes of teenagers poured out into the hallway. In a flash, Matthew was gone, pushing aside his arms and practically running down the hallway, Francis followed him, resenting high school bells and the entire idea of disrupting what was almost a kiss.

He found Matthew grabbling his stuff in his first period, trying to get rid of his blush before anyone asked whether he had a fever and oh gosh, his heart was beating so hard, it was louder than the crowd of elephants storming the halls, a hard feet to do and he couldn't believe it, he almost-kissed Francis Bonnefoy or really, Francis Bonnefoy had almost kissed him. Heck, he'd be freaking out if anyone almost-kissed him. It just made it better, or worse he wasn't sure, that it was Francis Bonnefoy, model turned actor, famous for his frequent and quick relationships with tons of attractive girls and guys and of course, this relationship wouldn't go anywhere, he was just a high schooler and as soon as they finished filming Francis would move on or maybe it was just a one night thing or something and then he would move on to the next mildly attractive person - wait when did he even admit he wanted to be in a relationship with Francis Bonnefoy at all, and oh gosh, he was right behind him wasn't he?

Matthew whirled around to see Francis, smirking behind him, and oh gosh, smirking and it was so hot, he so hoped the teacher wasn't in the room because if so he would be too mortified to look at the teacher ever again and oh gosh, he was blushing again, his face was burning and Francis was still smirking, and crap, he was going to be late. He slung his shoulder bag over his shoulder and rushed down the hallway to his next class, getting there about fifteen seconds before the bell rang but he wasn't sure when it would ring and Matthew sure didn't want to be tardy because that would go on his record and colleges would see that and think he was irresponsible.

Matthew slipped into his seat at the back while Francis claimed the seat next to him. Matthew could swear that he was still smirking at him so he pulled out his book and stared at the pages, trying to forget about the presence next to him, not realizing until l the teacher started talking that it was the wrong book so he dug out another one, only too aware that Francis was watching him and was he chuckling in that extremely sexy way of his? And oh gosh did he just think that?

Finally, he looked up, avoiding Francis' gaze and listened to the teacher, noticing that every couple seconds one of the girls in front of him would look back and giggle incessantly. Matthew looked at Francis to see that he was blowing kisses and in a really sexy way and not that lame way you'd expect but- oh gosh he just thought sexy again. He turned to Francis and hissed,

"Stop encouraging them."

"Mon cher, are you jealous? If you'd like I'll only kiss you." Mr, Honda, the quiet but strict teacher at first was upset about the disturbance known as Francis Bonnefoy until he saw the blush on the quieter boy's face, Mr. Jones' brother. Kiku Honda had Alfred for his robotics class. He was an. . .enthusiastic student. Seeing the two interact, they were obviously dating. And. . .Alfred's brother was so moe, it was adorable. He would make such a cute stuttering virgin uke and Francis would make the perfect experienced seductive seme.

Matthew was a good student so he could picture Matthew needing to study while Francis tries to convince him otherwise. Eventually after Francis's touches got to be too much, he would turn away from the screen or book and face Francis, blushing copiously and stutter that he needs to work. Francis would ignore this and coax him onto the bed-and class was not a good time to be picturing. . .that. He finished assigning the class their work, ignoring the whispered query of why he had paused randomly and the response which went along the lines of culture shock, it happens a lot. He sat at his computer and typed an email to his college friend from Hungary, who also had a passion for this sort of thing.

Matthew was diligently working on the assignment when Francis leaned over Matthew's shoulder, pretending to look over the problems but actually watching Matthew's cute reaction as Matthew shivered every time Francis exhaled. When he had been on the same problem for the last five minutes, Francis smiled and placed his hand next to Matthew's thigh on the seat. Matthew shifted uncomfortable, schooching away from his the impeding lim, but due to the bar, blocking the opposite side, he didn't get far. In the last couple minutes, the assignment was turned in and the attention of the girls in the class was immediately targeted on Francis.

"Can't you make them stop?" Matthew asked, glad Francis had finally moved his hands.

"No, mon cher, they just seek the radiance of my presence."

"Does this happen everywhere you go?"

"Oui. Does it bother you?"

"That's not the point."

"If you don't like it, we can leave."

"Leave where exactly?"

"School. It's a bore. I don't know why you put up with it."

"I can't just skip school."

"Of course you can. Mon cher, you have an excuse. I can say that his is research for my movie and well, cheri, you did say that the principal has to do whatever I say. And that I'm sexy."

"I never said that."

"Which part?"

"The latter."

"You thought it, mon cher, same thing." Francis noted with amusement that he didn't deny that but who didn't think he was sexy? "Now, come along, mon petit lapin."

"My little rabbit? That's a new one. And we can't go anywhere now. You can't just get up and leave in the middle of class."

"So you agreed to come?"

"I never said that." The bell rang and Francis didn't hate its timing this period.

"Come along." Matthew followed wordlessly, doubting the wisdom of this decision. Hadn't he been warned about getting into French people's limos? You know stranger danger and all that. But no, he had in fact been warned about eating English cooking but no French limos. Matthew got into the car, the shutting of the door feeling very ominous in this situation. Francis made light conversation the whole way about books and movies, and when they got to the restaurant, things had become more comfortable and Matthew could almost forget the way Francis' arms were placed around him, almost holding him against the locker and the way he leaned and- oh gosh, he was trying to forget that. Matthew followed Francis inside the restaurant, suddenly feeling out of place in his jeans and t-shirt, seeing as it was obviously quite fancy..

"Why are we here again?"

"Is there anything wrong with taking mon cher to a restaurant on a date?"

"Yes, considering I'm skipping school and we're not on a date."

"Yes, but this is much more entertaining though." A stiff looking waiter come by and gave them menus; Matthew could feel the scorn rolling off of him, a casually dressed high school student in this ostentatious restaurant. He looked through the menu, skipping the ornate French descriptions and focusing on the price tag. He ordered something small and hoped that Francis was paying because he sure didn't have enough money on him to pay for it. In fact, he didn't have any money on him at all, because people would ask him for money at school all the time and he would feel bad if he said no or lied so he figured it would be better just to not take any money.

Francis starts another conversation about movies and before he really knew what was going on, he had invited him to go see the new movie. Nothing of interest really happened until the bill comes and Francis places a credit card on the sheet and looks at him expectantly.

"I don't have any money."

"Well, mon cher, if I have to pay for you, then that would make this a date, non?"

"No, its. . .just that, well-"

"How about this mon cher? I will cover your expenses if you admit this was a date." Matthew paused before making his decision. "Fine."

"I want to hear it."

"Thanks for going on a date with me."

"Pas de quoi."

They got back into the limo, Matthew glad to be free of the stifling and condescending atmosphere. When they returned to the school, Francis turned to Matthew smirking- and oh gosh, he was smirking again. "Matthew, if this is a date, you have to let me kiss you." Matthew colored and turned away. "This is common or have you not been on a date before." He turned back toward him to retort,

"Of course, I-" Francis moved toward Matthew on the seat, then grabbed his chin with an elegant finger and tilted it toward him. Francis was determined not to let anyone interrupt him this time. He leaned forward, and before Matthew got over the shock and pulled back, pressed his lips to Matthew's, reveling in the way the fit together neatly. Francis, not wanting to keep kissing him if Matthew didn't want it, though really, who didn't want to kiss him, pulled back and Matthew looked at him incredulously, then pulled him back for another, wrapping his arms around the older boy's neck and tugging. Francis took this as invitation and slipped his tongue inside the others mouth, enjoying the feeling as Matthew's tongue automatically tried to force out the foreign invader, but Matthew stopped that, and Francis explored his mouth, tasting the cuisine he'd had for lunch, and was that maple syrup?

Francis clambered on top of Matthew for better access and after taking a breath for air, even though it seemed like a secondary priority(they had a whole lifetime to breath and who knows how long for this), they met again in wonderful harmony, tongues invading each others mouths and pressed together so that only fabric separated them and not where their mouths met in an embrace. Matthew got more forceful, shoving his tongue into Francis' and getting a good taste. Francis wasn't going to give in that easily and fought back. Matthew shoved Francis against the front seat in an unexpected show of force that left Francis motionless while Matthew took the advantage and plunged his tongue in. Matthew was elated even though he knew he regret this in oh about, as soon as it stopped, Francis wondered when the shy boy got so. . .well, French, and the driver wished that they would stop jarring his seat and that someone would give him directions. Finally, they pulled apart and Matthew lay back against the seat, breathing hard.

"That's the best kiss I've had in a while." He mumbled.

"Who was the last best one, mon cher?"

"Some kid I know. We were both high." Francis contained his surprise that the little innocent blushing Matthew had one, gotten high and two, kissed someone and three, kissed with that much. . .enthusiasm and experience.

"And mon cher?"

"Yeah?"

"Not that I'm regretting it or anything, but why did you kiss me a second time?"

"If you go on a date, that pansy thing doesn't count."

"Oh, so you weren't satisfied?"

"You could say that."

"Well, with me, I guarantee you will never leave unsatisfied." Matthew ignored the obvious innuendo and moved on.

"I suppose you assume we'll be doing this again?"

"Well, of course, mon petit lapin, don't you want more? And of course, you promised me a movie."

"Well," Matthew looked at his watch. "I did but I gotta go now. If I miss AP Gov, I'm screwed."

"I'd be more than happy to do that for you."

"Sorry but that statement lost all elegance whatsoever, that sounded just like a high schooler."

"Well then, my research is going well."

Matthew grabbed his book bag and stepped out of the vehicle. As a parting sentence, he commented,

"Don't change. You're sexy like this." And with that, he shut the door, walking off with a little extra swagger that led Francis to watch him, especially his butt. Francis smiled, well that was certainly a new side to the quiet boy.

Matthew sat in his AP Government class, his thoughts kept drifting to Francis and their awesome mind-blowing kiss earlier. With that distraction, there was no competition on where his attention laid, the American government can wait when there's a sexy French model who keeps kissing him, or trying to. Alfred leaned over to copy his notes as he had a perchance to do when he was too busy talking to pay attention and was surprised to see that he didn't have anything written down.

"Hey, bro, whats up?"

"I dunno, just bored."

"Matthew, Alfred, stop talking this instant." Matthew sighed, of course the teacher would only hear when he was talking. It wasn't like Alfred had been talking the whole period or anything but when he says like four words, the teacher yells at him. Matthew sighs at the overall injustice and irony of it all and Alfred goes back to talking to his friends. Matthew is then free to return to his thoughts about Francis and electrifying kisses. The period passes in a much similar fashion with the bell sounding. Alfred runs out with a,

"Oh, yeah, Mattie, tell the parental unit I won't be home for a while." and Matthew gets ready to leave. He briefly considers seeing the teachers whose class he missed and getting the makeup work but dismisses it to avoid the embarrassment of having to explain exactly why he was gone- "Well, I skipped to go to a fancy restaurant and make out with a French model."- That would go over great. He hoped that they would forget about his absence before the next day and he could silently figure out what they did the day before and try and make up the work. He headed to the bus, getting on and claiming a spot near the front at the window. Matthew normally sat alone, except the few timres wheb Alfred rode the bus where Alfred would call him a dork for sitting at the front then turn stound and talk to his friends the whole way effectively ignoring Matthew. That's why he was surprised when someone jumped into the seat next to him. He looked to face the person and saw someone strange-looking. He was an albino with the characteristic red eyes and white hair and a smirk on his face.

"Hey, you're Matthew, right?"

"Yeah." Matthew wasn't sure who he was. He was sure he would have recognized the albino around school, with his noticeable features. The person leaned forward grabbed his face and kissed him. Matthew wasn't sure exactly what was going on, so he decided to go with the easy way, considering he was being shoved into the side of the bus and kiss back. The albino was already slipping his tongue into Matthew's mouth and he returned the favor, their tongues battling for dominance. He wasn't sure what to think, except that Francis kisses were more elegant, while he was more forceful especially he hadn't asked or anything. After a while of frenzied kissing and Matthew couldn't help but hope that no one was boarding the bus because he'd probably never be able to face them again, the boy pulled off of him.

"Verdammt, you are a good kisser." Then he walked off. Matthew wasn't exactly sure what to think. It was probably another one of his brother's pranks or something. Matthew ended up the butt of his jokes as often as not, just with Alfred's inability to foretell consequences or some attempted hookup of his ex-boyfriend.

Matthew was surprised, he had been kissed by two admittedly hot guys in one day. That certainly didn't happen often. He wasn't that. . .active. He'd had two boyfriends and they barely counted. The first Lars basically consisted of them both getting high, making out, then repeating the process. His next boyfriend Miguel only dated him to get his brother mad but he bought him ice cream and all. Matthew now thought he had a thing for foreign guys, first, Lars, who was from the Netherlands, then Miguel, a Cuban, and now Francis. It was probably their accents.

Matthew got off at his stop and returned to an empty house, he couldn't help but fell an angry pang when a sticky note was on the fridge, reading "Mon fils, we're working and not going to be home until late. Eat an good dinner and no, Mathieu, pancakes do not count. We should be back around eleven and you need to be in bed by then. Love, Mama and Papa". Matthew couldn't help but pout when he read what exactly constituted a proper meal.

He slung his backpack down, grabbed a snack and started his homework, having considerably then usual considering that he skipped half the day. So he finished that and had a relaxing day with a novel then taking the time to write to his pen pal in Ukraine. They had done a pen pal exchange in the seventh grade and Matthew was pretty sure he was the only one that was still in contact with his. She didn't have internet so he had sent it by snail mail. He talked about his life and expressed his concern for her sister, who apparently kept stalking her brother. He neglected to mention the whole Francis thing; his love life was a little personal for someone he had never met before. Matthew attempted to nicely correct her grammar as English was her second language and it was one of the reasons she had wanted to be pen pals. Matthew on the other hand, just liked to help and it was nice to have friends.

. . .

This chapter was longer than the last. Hmm, I just wanted to get the day finished. The chapter's are kind of organized by days or at least in what I've written so far. Hoped you liked it. Oh just so you know, I needed to figure out a way to get reviews because otherwise I don't feel like writing. I don't think begging is working. And I don't want to set an ultimatum. So my evil plan is that I will update in two weeks, fourteen days, but for every review I get, I will update a day sooner. For example, I published on the 1st and got five reviews so I would publish on the ninth, but I decided to publish today because I'm going to London tomorrow and don't know when I'll get back. And because you reviewers are awesome. That's the new plan, and if I get more than fourteen reviewers. . .I don't know, or how about I write another thousand words. Bu I've never got more than fourteen reviews on one chapter so yeah. Just so everyone knows, and I know you don't care, I told my sister I liked yaoi and she is okay with it. Plus, I met some friends at my school who like yaoi(Spent the entire chemistry class discussing pairings) so yeah. I've published about 2/5 of what I've written so far, so I really need to write more. As I said last chapter reviews and suggestions are appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Matthew tried to ignore the doorbell ringing and fall back to sleep in his really, really comfortable bed and oh gosh did he really have to get up but he couldn't go back to sleep knowing that someone was at the door and someone may or may not have gotten the door and seen what the person wanted so he really should go see or at the least walk down there and see whether someone had gotten it but he wanted to stay in bed so bad, it was calling to him. Then the doorbell rang again and Matthew sighed and pulled himself out of bed, clutching the polar bear stuffed animal When he answered the door, he was still in his pajamas with a rather serious case of bed head. He freaked out when he saw that the person was none other than Francis Bonnefoy.

"Well, bonjour, mon cher."

"H'y," he mumbled, half asleep.

"You are aware that it is noon."

"Yeah." He protested in response to Francis's stare. "I like to sleep in, alright?"

"Of course, mon cher, are you busy?"

"No."

"Matthew, if I must say, you look tres mignon in your night clothes." He received a grunt in reply.

"'m hungry. You can come in." Francis followed him to the kitchen where he found Matthew's mother baking.

"Bonjour," she greeted. "Oh and who is this, Mathieu? A friend or is he more?"

"Maman, did you make crepes?"

"Non, pastries." Matthew reached over and swiped one putting it in his mouth and sitting contentedly. "Now, Mathieu, you haven't told me out this person."

"Oh, he's a friend from school."

"How darling! You're bringing home friends. I worry about you, you know. Alfred is always out with his friends but you mon bebe I worry about."

"Okay, Maman. Where's Al?"

"With friends."

"And dad?"

"Work."

"'kay."

"Mathieu, you are neglecting your guest. I'm sorry about my son's manners; he can be inconsiderate when he's just woke up. Would you like a pastry?"

"Oui, s'il vous plaît." He reached over and took one and after biting into the heavenly convection, easily saw where Matthew's cooking skills came from.

"Ah, parlez vous Francais?"

"Oui."

"It's so nice to see someone speaking French. This country is so uncultured on a whole."

"Oui, I agree." Francis looked over at Matthew to see that he was slumped over on the counter, using the polar bear as a pillow with his eyes closed.

"Oh, don't worry about him. He does that. And I don't advise waking him up. When his brother tried it, Mathieu gave him a black eye." Francis had a hard time imagining the shy blonde beating up anyone but he had already been surprised once by Matthew and it could happen again. Matthew lifted up his head slightly and mumbled,

"Don't talk about me while I'm trying to sleep."

"Matthew, dear, wake up, you have guests and its not polite." Matthew mumbled something into his pillow that sounded strangely like Quebecois curse words.

"Watch your language. Honestly, I apologize, he's not normally like this."

"Oh, its all right."

"Sorry, I just worry about him, he's not quite the social butterfly like his brother." Matthew laughed sarcastically while still immersed in the amazing pillow comfiness that was Kumajirou- or whatever his name was. "And he doesn't bring friends home often so I worry about him. And when he does get friends they're not always the sort of people we want him associating with and I really shouldn't be burdening all of my parenting problems on you. Just be a good friend for him alright?" Finally, Matthew dragged his head of from his pillow.

"All right, mom, you can stop embarrassing me. I'm up now. I'm going to go get dressed. I'll be down in a bit." He trudged his way upstairs and shortly after his mom looked at her watch.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I have to go to the studio. Feel free to have as many pastries as you want." She grabbed her stuff but turned back. "Oh and if he's not done in ten minutes, go check on him. He tends to do that." She rushed out the door and Francis chuckled, she was a vibrant woman and he could tell she was where Matthew inherited his looks.

Matthew walked back down in a couple minutes, looking substantially more awake and in clothes and with brushed hair. He glared at Francis.

"You could have warned me you were coming, you know."

"Ah, but you forget, I don't have your number."

"Fine then, oh and my mom thinks we're dating now." He raised an eyebrow.

"Are we not?"

"I don't know; are we?"

"I believe that's your decision."

"Why is that?"

"I've already made mine."

"And what is it?"

"I think you should tell me yours first."

"Well. . .um. .if you're going to be serious, I'd like to date you."

"Good, mon cher, then as a couple, please allow me to kiss you."

"Yeah, yeah." Nevertheless, he didn't protest when Francis walked toward him and especially when his arms wrapped around him, tucking in the small of his back and pulling him close. Matthew looked up slightly into Francis' seductive blue eyes, leaned up and kissed him, slipping his tongue into Francis' mouth as a preemptive movement. Francis moved his lips against Matthew's, appendage delving deep into Matthew's wet cavern and shoving Matthew's own tongue aside. They kissed like this; it not going any further, until Francis lowed his hands to rest on Matthew's rear. He squealed even through the kiss while Francis chuckled.

"What'd you do that for?"

"I wanted to get to know you, mon cheri."

"You could get to know me in other ways, like personality."

"Mon cher-"

"Don't mon cher me. We're not continuing father than making out until I feel comfortable."

"Fine, but on one condition."

"What?"

"There's lots of oh, how did you word it- making out."

"Fine."

"And I get to call you whatever pet names I want."

"Francis, they're embarrassing."

"You like it though."

"Mmm."

"As your boyfriend, I'm going to make you happy and if pet names make you happy, even if you aren't willing to say so, I will call you them." Matthew sighed.

"Allright, so what do you have planned?"

"Planned?"

"For a date? Or did you just come over here to wake me up?"

"Well, for our first date as a real couple, I thought we could go to-"

"If you say a hotel room, I'm going to murder you with a hockey stick."

"Of course not, mon cher. I would think that you should think I have more class than that."

"Coming from the guy that's slept with most of the celebrities in Hollywood." Then he realized that what he said wasn't just in his head and his eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I was just, well, its what I hear from like magazines and stuff and oh my goodness, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Oh mon cher, you think I haven't?"

"Umm."

"Non, the media did blow it all out of proportion but I have slept around quite a bit and I am fine with admitting it."

"Oh." Matthew looked down at his feet, he was an idiot, he thought he had been something special to him and it looked like he was wrong.

"But mon cher," he said, stepping closer to Matthew and tilting his face up to look into his eyes. "I've never asked any of them to be my boyfriend. Or girlfriend as the case may be." He still saw the disbelief in his eyes. "Mathieu, you mean more to me then any of those shallow distractions ever did. With them, all we ever did was have sex. With you, simply being around you lights up my life. Do you understand?" Slowly, Matthew nodded. "Good. Never doubt that I have feelings for you. And on a happier note, what would you like to do today? It's your decision."

"Um, I don't know."

"Mon cher, what do you usually do on dates?" Get high and eat ice cream with some making out in between and each of those with separate boyfriends but neither of those ended well and each of those activities were special to the boyfriend they applied to.

"Well, you said you'd take me to a movie?"

"Of course, mon petit lapin, but are there any movies on right now?" Matthew smiled with the prospect of a challenge.

"I have an idea. My brother and I did this once. We stay at the theater from opening to closing. From 1 to midnight."

"Sounds fun, mon nuage."

"And the only food allowed is the overpriced theater food. And you pay. To lose, you have to leave the theater, eat outside food, use the restroom and that includes puking or get kicked out."

"Let's say we make this interesting?" Matthew looked at him questioningly. "Loser has to answer ten personal questions about anything the winner so chooses."

"Hmm, alright, you're on."

They headed to the car. Matthew already reveling in the sweet taste of victory- if anyone was wondering it tastes like maple syrup. He had done this before and won. Alfred had gotten kicked out because they were having a popcorn war in the back five isles, strangely the employee didn't notice him and just kicked Alfred out. Still, Matthew's win, the possible foul was negligible. Francis was deciding what questions he was going to ask once he one of course. First would be the all important question of whether the shy blonde was a virgin. Next, well, he would have to think about that.

Matthew gave the driver directions to the closest movie theater that showed a movie at one, feeling uncomfortable ordering someone around even if it was his job so he added in quite a few pleases and thank yous. Francis chuckled internally at the blonde's unease. They reached the movie theater and got out of the limo.

"Alright, Francis, I have to warn you, after this there is no turning back now. You have to stay in the theater until midnight or you lose. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course mon cher, I won't turn down a challenge."

"Alright." They entered the door of the theater. "Game on." The competition started out rather less exhilarating than one would think as Matthew got in line to buy tickets and chatted aimlessly with the clerk who he apparently knew from school but strange enough didn't really recognize him. Matthew gestured Francis forward to take care of the bill which he did so complacently, it wasn't like he was short on money. And after the enormous pile of popcorn, snacks, drinks and stuff that had the staff giving the two looks, which of course, Francis payed for and then had to carry, walking behind Matthew as he walked ahead. He swore he heard one of the soccer moms he passed, dragging at least four kids cough and whisper something that sounded strangely like, "Whipped." Then he shook his head, that couldn't be right. He looked ahead to Matthew who didn't appear to have heard and was cheerfully winding through the halls to get to their theater.

Matthew chose seats in the front of the theater in the exact middle.

"Here we are," he smiled. "Al and I determined after months of meticulous research that parents are less likely to let their parents sit in the very front rows so we have maximum room, plus, they can barely see us due to the glare of the screen." Those so called months of research were basically an excuse to go to the movie theater, every. single. day. Alfred paid, he had a job at McDonalds and he couldn't resist Matthew's puppy eyes. That's also why he had a car. Matthew didn't want to work, he had no desire to get a car and anything else could be bought on his allowance. He also knew he was set for college as his parents were quite rich, all he had to do was get into a good college.

Within a few minutes, the movie started or so to say the endless reel of commercials before the actual program. Francis, without the least desire, got to see trailers for all the upcoming children's movies and after a particularly scarring one, something about naked cats- Francis was quite fond of cats and to see them portrayed in this light was unacceptable- he leaned over and remarked to the boy,

"You Americans and your terrible television. Now the French they can make a good movie."

"One, French movies are full of sex." He ignored Francis' smile that confirmed that he thought that was exactly why they made such a good movie. "And two," He picked up a bunch of popcorn and threw it at Francis. "I'm Canadian, not American." Then he added for emphasis and confirmation. "You hoser."

"I'm sorry, mon nuage, I assumed."

"I am Canadian, French Canadian, and don't you forget it." He threw another handful of popcorn for good measure. Francis shifted uncomfortably in his seat. In another few minutes, Matthew looked at him knowingly. "You have popcorn down your shirt, don't you?"

"Oui."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to."

"It's all right, mon cher."

"Are you going to get it out?"

"Mon cher, that's not sophisticated."

"Would this be?" He climbed on Francis' lap in one swift movement, slipping his hands up his shirt as he did so. He leaned in to kiss him, then tilted his head to one side, resting against his neck. "Well, is it sophisticated enough for a French model?" Francis turned his head toward him.

"Well, since its you, we'll make an exception." And captured his mouth in a kiss. While Matthew's hands roamed under Francis' shirt, getting out the popcorn while strangely still in a sexual way, his tongue moved in Francis' mouth. Matthew's hand brushed a nipple and finally, Francis decided to step it up, grabbing Matthew's back, above his rear, he didn't want this to stop like last time and pulled him in closer, using it as leverage to thrust his tongue deep in Matthew's mouth.

Suddenly, Matthew pulled away.

"Oh gosh, what if someone sees us, its a children's movie and those soccer moms can get nasty."

"No one will see us, mon nuage. As you said, we were in the front of the theater and there's a glare from the screen. Don't worry so much." He tempted him back and their mouths met again in the wonderful harmony that left your heartbeat soaring. Soon they were interrupted by an an annoying child's voice from above them.

. . .

I'm so dramatic right?(Raising sarcasm hand). I'll give you a super special awesome prize if you can guess who it is, your clue is that he/she is a Hetalia character. I'm sure that narrows it down. - Anyway, I may be a day late on posting, or two but there's some family drama and my mom is arbitrarily grounding me from the computer. I am still trying to post though(supposed to be doing Latin while babysitting). So we'll try. Hopefully this will all be resolved before the next chapter. FYI, I'm going to Spain, at the end of this month(after exams are over) so I have no idea whether that will mess up my update schedule. What you could do is if I get seven reviews, I can post it before I leave and you won't have to wait. *hint, hint, wink, wink* The details of my RMS(Reviewer Motivating Schedule) can be seen at the author's note of Chapter 2. And one last thing, please tell me if you have a guess on what's going to happen. I am attempting to make it suspenseful enough that you know that something's going to happen but don't know what and the clues aren't enough to piece it together but once my amazing plot reaches the conclusion you're like "ohhhhhh, thats what that was for". Kind of like the book I read today(Pathfinder by Orson Scott Card) After this long author's note, I bid you adieu or adios, depending on whether I update before my Spain trip.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, Alfred, What are you doing?" Matthew panicked and turned away to look.

"Um, Peter, I'm Matthew." He felt like banging his head on the seat rest, the back of the seat, anything. Of course, the one kid that sees them has to be one he knows personally and has to see on a monthly basis.

"Who is this?" Matthew really, really wished Francis would be quiet right now.

"This is Peter. I babysit for him sometimes."

"It's not babysitting; its kidsitting."

"Oh, of course, Peter."

"So, you haven't answered my question. What were you doing? Is it like what Mom and Dad do when they think I'm asleep and they wrestle together?" Matthew blushed deeply, of all the embarrassing situations. He'd rather have his brother catch him kissing then Peter. No, wait, take that back, he didn't feel like getting Alfred out of jail for murder.

"Umm, no, Peter, um. . .I was just trying to get the popcorn out of his shirt."

"Well, why weren't you looking at his shirt? It makes it easier to get the popcorn out. And Mommy says that kissing isn't okay. Mommy said I'm not allowed to kiss Raivis, he's my best friend. I just want to show him I like him, just like Daddy does to Mommy. Why do you get to kiss your best friend?"

"Umm, well, Peter that would be because. . .we're older than you are."

"So, when I'm your age, I get to kiss Raivis?"

"Um, maybe. It depends on whether he likes you back and whether your mom and dad says its okay." Matthew mentally apologized for telling Peter this.

"All right, got it. How old are you?"

"Umm, seventeen."

"Okay, just seven years left. Alright, counting down."

"Peter, your mom and dad are probably looking for you; you better go find them."

"Okay, see ya, Alfred." Matthew didn't bother to correct him this time. He promptly vacated Francis' lap, leaning back against the seat, embarrassed and exasperated.

"Oh gosh, what am I going to do? I have to see them in a couple weeks and I won't be able to look them in the face after this."

"It's not so bad, mon cher."

"How is it not bad?"

"He thinks you're Alfred so if he tells his parents, your brother will get in trouble."

"That's all fine, except I don't want my brother to get in trouble and he'll know it was me."

"Well, mon cher," he purred, reaching an arm around Matthew seductively, "Let's continue from where were before we were oh so rudely interrupted."

"Nope," he rebuffed, but made no attempt to move Francis' arm. "No more kissing in the movie theater. We don't want a repeat of this incident."

"What shall we do then?"

"Watch the movie, it started at least five minutes ago." Francis found this bet harder then he had originally thought, due to the presence of three evil beings who claimed to be talking chipmunks. In his opinion, they were more like giant rats and Francis absolutely despised rats. It all went back to an incident in his childhood that if asked about, he would deny completely, hiding behind a girl, and watching as she calmly killed the thing. He couldn't even summon the interest when they started cross dressing or whatever it was they did. That showed exactly how much he was paying attention to the plot.

With now six rats running around on stage, Francis turned his attention away from the movie completely and onto more beautiful subjects, in a word, Matthew, who was focused on the screen. He was hoping that they could commence another make out session, only this time not get caught by some annoying brat but Matthew seemed oblivious when he reached his hand over and laid it lightly on his knee. He was disappointed by Matthew's lack of reaction to his touches.

Matthew couldn't believe this was happening, oh gosh, Francis was touching his knee and well, he probably needs to get comfortable with that. But if Francis gets a make out sessions, then he'll probably lose the bet because Francis would probably be fine anywhere as long as he got to be romantic so, for the sake of winning, he had to pretend that all of this was not making him want to lean over and kiss Francis' lips. They were so luscious and were just begging for it and were in a slight pout because he wasn't being noticed.

He pretended to stay focused on the movie, even though he had seen it three times courtesy of Alfred,who claimed that him and Alvin were homies, and oh gosh, was his hand moving? Matthew tried hard to keep still and show outwardly that this wasn't affecting him but as it just kept gravitating closer and closer, he didn't know what to do. Finally, he took the initiative and took Francis' hand, holding it in a way that emulated teenagers holding hands for the first time. He looked at Francis with an ever so small smirk and hoped that the room was dark enough that he couldn't see the Canadian's blush.

Francis left his hand there, he wasn't going to pull it away, this was too enjoyable, and couldn't continue with his plan since reaching with his other hand over would be too awkward and probably wouldn't reach. Matthew now had to alternate his gaze between the screen and their intertwined hands. He had to look at them to confirm that this wasn't just a dream and yes, he, Matthew Williams-Jones was holding hands with the Francis Bonnefoy in a movie theater, watching a brainless children's movie-Take that, everyone who had ever put him down or forgotten about him!

Francis couldn't fathom what Matthew was thinking about at this moment. The light from the screen didn't give away enough of his face and he was trying to keep it blank.

In an hour, Francis seriously needs to kiss Matthew, kiss, touch, make love, anything but holding hands. He couldn't bear the slight contact off their hands, he needed something more. He desperately needed to now how much time was left in the movie but he couldn't reach his watch as it was currently on the hand being held captive by Matthew's hand. Soon, they reached some really lame climax with a really lame conclusion and Francis was contemplating murdering the director of this movie, and the producer, and the actors- he could do it after all, he saw half these people at the Hollywood parties-he blamed the high, squeaky noises.

Matthew was used to the hyper voices; it kind of sounded like Alfred when he was younger or for like the entire month of July because for both their birthdays they would get a helium tank to blow up balloons and Alfred would keep going in there and making his voice squeaky. Even now when they didn't blow up balloons anymore, Alfred still bought a helium tank.

Francis watched the credits roll by with unmatched excitement(except for when he finally had sex with Matthew, he's going to be excited then).

"Okay, Francis," Matthew said optimistically. "Only nine hours left." If not for the prospect of finding out ten highly personal questions to his boyfriend, Francis would have walked out then(or when the chipmunks started talking).

Matthew lightly pulled his hands out of Francis' to get some popcorn which went highly neglected during the handholding. "Would you like some?" he asked, offering him the rather large bucket.

"Oh no thank you mon nuage, unless you would let me taste in another way." To emphasize his point, he leaned in with the intent of kissing him; Matthew pulled away.

"I told you, I'm not kissing you in the movie theater, especially during a children's movie."

"Is another one on next?"

"Yep. Avatar."

"Mon cher, that's not a children's movie."

"No, the Last Airbender."

"Ah." Matthew chose not to mention that he'd seen both of them four times.

"What about after that?" He pulled out the tickets and started rifling through them. "Inception." Matthew's eyes gleamed.

"I love that movie."

"I'm glad, mon petit lapin. Is there romance?"

"No just a dead, suicidal and homicidal wife."

"Oh."

"Just wait, it's an awesome movie." While watching another stream of pointless, repetitive commercials, Francis' attempts to coax Matthew to the bathroom for a make out session were sadly unsuccessful. Matthew had to say, he was enjoying all the attention. Avatar, um never mind, The Last Airbender started with its quite lame opening read by Katara that Matthew could recite by heart, despite strong professions of its lameness. Alfred seconded him on both aspects. Then they were thrown into the movie with all its boomerang-swinging, element-bending, creepyfireship-attacking, and so forth. Francis didn't have a chance to make a move and tried to be complacent with a hand wrapped around Matthew's shoulders.

Matthew watched the movie with focus but made snide comments in his head about missed pronunciation and inaccuracies-he had watched the TV show when he was younger. Still he couldn't help but get tired, he'd had trouble getting to sleep the last night with all of the happenings and then didn't get to sleep in as late as he would have preferred.

By the time the lame ending fight sequence where the fire benders ran in fear from Aang started, Matthew was asleep on Francis' shoulder and Francis' arm was running through his hair soothingly. He couldn't help but admire his cute face while sleeping, well actually he thought he was cute all of the time but now especially because there was no worries or inhibitions or shyness or sarcasm etched into his face, just an innocent boy. When the movie ended, he woke Matthew up, not wanting him to miss Inception. He was sad to wake him up but didn't want him to miss the movie he loved so much. Matthew woke up groggily, rubbing his eyes in a cute way that reminded Francis of a little kid and taking a drink of his soda in an attempt to wake him up. He made a few half-formed sentences before Francis lightly informed him that the movie was playing. He turned toward the screen and soon woke up with the excitement of the movie.

Francis waited with anticipation born of Matthew's enthusiasm. He wasn't disappointed. It was an interesting movie and quite complicated. Plus, he was quite excited when they went to his beloved country of France, even though it was only briefly.

Once they movie ended, he finally managed to kiss Matthew probably because he was so elated to see the movie, plus Francis was sexy enough that no one could resist him for long. As they were kissing, a shadow fell upon them and both of them looked up.

"Oh, sorry, I thought you were my brother but my bro wouldn't be sucking some other guys face-oh gosh, Mattie?" Matthew paled and let out a Quebecois curse word under his breath. Alfred stood there with an extra large soda, a bucket of popcorn, and a horrified expression. "Mattie, what are you doing?" Alfred sounded almost hysterical.

"Um, Al, I'm on a date."

"It's all right, Mattie. I know, this pervert kidnapped you and is making you kiss him. Don't worry I'll save you!"

"Al, he's my boyfriend and this is perfectly consensual."

"And he has a brain hypnotizing ray that is making you say this."

"Al, listen to me. I like him. He likes me. So we went to the movies and are kissing. Its not that hard to understand."

"Well, what happened to my little innocent Mattie?"

"Al, I've had a couple boyfriends before. You've just never figured it out."

"Who?"

"Some kid from another school and umm," he looked down. "Miguel."

"What? That commie bastard. You know that we're worst enemies right? Didn't he beat you up that one time?"

"Yes and then he apologized and bought me ice cream."

"Okay, Mattie, I'm sorry. I haven't been protecting you as well as I should have. I'm sorry. So let's ditch this pervert and go hang out, alright? I won't let them get to you again."

"Al, I'm not ditching him; that's rude"

"Fine, if you'd rather hang out with some pervert who only wants to get in your pants than your big brother then fine." He turned to leave then returned, sticking out his arm and dumping his XL soda onto Francis' lap. He stuck out his tongue childishly and left. Matthew immediately turned to Francis', apologizing for everything from the soda companies to their parents, for having twins. Five minutes later, as Francis tried to clean the soda off of Francis' all-too-stylish clothes, Matthew was still apologizing and trying to help.

"Matthew, its not your fault so stop apologizing so much."

"But-" Francis shut him up in the easiest way, leaning forward and kissing him. Matthew didn't object, moving his mouth against Francis' before he pulled away.

"Um, we're in a public bathroom. Can we continue this somewhere else and also where my brother can't walk in?"

"Of course, mon cher." He wasn't going to tell him this but in simple terms, his brother was a douche. "Why don't we get in the car and head for my place for a change of clothes and then well, we'll go from there?"

"Alright." Matthew followed Francis out of the bathroom and almost out the door, stopping at the threshold as Francis continued. He looked back when he realized Matthew was no longer following.

"I won," Matthew declared before following him out the door. Francis lamented his loss as they got into the limo.

This is the longest fanfiction I have ever written, clocking in at 14000 words right now. There will most likely be six chapters. I have written all but the last. My goal is to finish this before the end of February. Wish me luck!

Anyway, I had two reviewers, so you got the chapter in 12 days. So I need reviewers to meet my deadline of February, so. . .I think you know what I'm implying.

Anyway, I've almost finished, just have to write the ending scene, that has at least one thousand more words and some kind of conclusion.

So with this story, I'm attempting some kind of suspense where at the end you go ohhhhh thats what happened and look back over to see that there were clues. I probably didn't succeed but tell me if any of you have any guesses at the plot. Hint: It was inspired that one movie and that one other movie and Hetalia. To be more precise, the movie that has some famous actor that goes to England and falls in love with a guy but leaves and after all kinds of drama, they get together. I think its called Nottingham or something. No scratch that, there is no movie called Nottingham but anyway. . .yeah. The other movie, well I can't tell you what it is but it was filmed where I was born. Mwah hahahhah. None of you know where I was born.

EDIT: Alright, as you do not know, I now have a beta so no one has to deal with my atrocious grammar and the spelling mistakes SpellCheck can't fix. Their name is Matthew Kirkland Williams (wonder who their favorite Hetalia character is. . .hmm). Anyway so my fanfics will be easier to read from now on and hopefully someone will stop me from posting crappy stuff and force me to get of my lazy butt and write.


	5. Chapter 5

"Um, Francis," he started on their way to his apartment. "You can have half of my questions since it wasn't entirely fair."

"Why, thank you, mon nuage. Would you like me to ask first or you?"

"You can."

"Well, first, are you a virgin?" Matthew blushed and looked down.

"No comment."

"Mathieu, I thought you said that they had to answer."

"Yes, but I gave you the questions so I decided to skip that one."

"Fine. Who was your first kiss?"

"Uhh, this is a little weird but Alfred."

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, see he decided somehow that he needed to be my first kiss. I don't know if I was his."

"Ah, I see. What about most embarrassing childhood memory?"

"Umm," He blushed again. "When I was eight, my cousins, they're older girls, thought I was too cute and put me in dresses in front of my entire family and took copious amounts of pictures. My mom still pulls them out and shows any friends I manage to make."

"I wouldn't be against seeing them."

"Nuh uh. We're lucky she didn't drag them out this morning."

"No, I think I would be lucky to see pictures of my boyfriend cross-dressing."

"That would be pedophilia. I was eight."

"Not really since now I can do this." He leaned over and kissed him, Matthew responded quite enthusiastically and they melted into each other. When they pulled away for air, Francis took the initiative climbing over Matthew predatorily, lips finding his neck and staying there.

"You know you're going to leave hickeys." Matthew replied breathlessly, stopping every time his wandering mouth found that one spot on his sensitive neck.

"I want" Another suck. "everyone to know" Oh gosh, he found that sweet spot again. "what's mine."

"You do realize my brother is going to kill you." Francis pulled himself away from his neck, to Matthew quietly whined and looked at him.

"I believe that your brother is going to have trouble killing a famous model and soon-to-be movie star."

"He's protective. Well, you saw him in the movie theater today. I really don't know what I'm going to do when I get home."

"Let me deal with your brother's homicidal attempts. You can sit there and look cute." Matthew pouted at the comment, sticking out his lower lip in a way Francis found hot. He rearranged himself to straddle Matthew and leaning forward, captured Matthew's lower lip into his mouth and continued kissing him. Matthew finally pulled away.

"I'm not here just to sit and look cute." He stated petulantly.

"Well, mon cheri, I never said that all you'll do. Still, you are sitting there, are you not? You most definitely are cute." Francis' lips returned to Matthew's neck, who didn't struggle. He leaned back against the window, blushing, as he let Francis make marks and bruises on his neck, while enjoying the attention and moaning slightly.

They both noticed when the car stopped and Matthew also noticed quite offhandedly and concernedly that neither had buckled their seatbelt. If they were in a crash engaging in the activities that they were, one, they would have had a hard time explaining it to the police and his parents but also that they would have been likely to be severely injured. He sighed.

He finally had objective proof that Francis was dangerous for him, but now he was addicted on the drug that was Francis. He couldn't imagine Francis leaving him now even though he knew he would. Isn't that pathetic? First guy to even look at him twice since Lars and he's all over him even though he knew it would end soon. Was he so in need of someone to pay attention to him that this would happen? He had told himself that he didn't need anyone after Lars and Miguel but now he wasn't so sure.

It was so nice having a boyfriend and Matthew didn't even know what he'd be doing right now if he didn't have a wonderful, caring and not to mention sexy, boyfriend. He didn't know why Francis wanted to be his boyfriend, some unnoticeable kid with no looks and nothing special when he could probably have any guy or girl he wanted in the entire school.

Maybe he was just convenient; he was crying about the play and was easy. Except for the fact that he seemed fine with not having sex and that would be the only reason. Plus, he had to have motive for showing up at the play in the first place and from what he had heard Francis say before slipping off, he had come to the play just for Matthew. He would have had to been looking for him, to find him curled up in a ball in the dressing room. Matthew sighed; it made no sense but then again, did anything in high school?

Francis had noticed the perplexed look as they pulled up to the apartment but not wanting to interrupt his thoughts; he could guess what they were about. He told the driver to wait here and went up to the apartment to change, leaving his boyfriend in the car.

He had hoped to corner Matthew in the apartment and maybe try to get a little further then making out but he knew the Canadian had a lot to think about. Plus, he could always find his brother and have to change clothes again. He rejected that plan for the simple reasons that he did not relish the feeling of cola all over and the stickiness that came with it. He didn't know if his boyfriend's brother would do something worse the next time, and each of his outfits cost more than well, he didn't really know, he never bothered to look at the price tags.

France had trouble reading the Canadian. He seemed to switch people from the snarky, inimical kid he had met to the compassionate kid who fell asleep on people's shoulders. To the shy blushing persona when anything sexual was mentioned to the sexy, surprisingly audacious kisser to the grumpy half-asleep person of this morning and then to the kid who just wanted to be noticed and he had no idea which one he would encounter next. It sounded like Matthew had schizophrenia when Francis thought about how to treat each of the attitudes but they were so different. They all blended to create the highly unique individual that happened to be his boyfriend.

Francis didn't really know what had attracted him to that particular student. At first, it had been crippling nostalgia from that wavy blonde hair and then it had been a desire of challenge to slip underneath the barriers the boy had build to protect himself but now he truly felt a need to be close to the blonde and make him happy. His friends would have laughed at him, the master of one night stands and no relationships. Luckily, his friends, Gilbert and Antonio, weren't there anymore. After Gilbert had had the audacity to do that, he had kicked them both off the set and hopefully out of town. He was still too afraid to ask Matthew what he felt about it; he didn't want to seem like a stalker or like he was in on it. His boyfriend wouldn't take either well even though neither were true.

He sighed and returned to the car, finding Matthew now curled up against the seat, napping. It was strange to see how quickly he could switch from worried to asleep. He sat in the middle, wrapping his arms around Matthew and pulling him close. The sleeping Canadian rearranged himself to fit around Francis though without waking and without anything else to do; Francis directed the driver to head to Matthew's house.

Matthew woke up midway through the drive. Blinking his eyes sleepily at Francis before he realized what was going on, Matthew launched into a flurry of apologies for falling asleep and more.

After pulling up at Matthew's house, he walked him to the door, taking one last kiss on the doorstep before Matthew headed inside and with one last adieu he was gone.

Matthew wasn't sure what to expect as it walked in the front door but it certainly wasn't his entire family, waiting for him. He scanned their faces, his mother who looked excited, his brother who looked angry and abandoned and his father who looked dubious.

"Well, Mathieu, why didn't you tell us you got a boyfriend?"

"Mattie, I can't believe you ditched me to hang out with that pe- weirdo."

"I'm not completely sure this is a good idea. Why haven't we met his parents?"

"I didn't tell you because I was trying to avoid this." He gestured to the people across from him. "Plus, he kind of just became my boyfriend this morning. Before he was just a friend."

"Then its a little early to be kissing him. Don't let him pressure you into doing anything you don't want him to."

"Was that your first real kiss? Aw, mon bebe is growing up."

"They weren't just kissing, he was sucking Matthew's face off."

"Guys, please stop. It was not my first kiss nor is he my first boyfriend." Matthew was ignored as Alfred was chided to be sensitive. He slipped upstairs and shut his door, wishing he was allowed to lock it to stop Alfred from coming in. Unfortunately, the last time he had the door locked and the music turned up, Alfred thought he was dead or in a coma or something so he broke the door down; then they instituted the rule that no one was allowed to lock their doors. He knew Alfred was going to come up and talk to him later, when he didn't have to censor exactly what terms he called Matthew's boyfriend by.

The only good thing that had come of this is that no one had asked his name because Matthew's mom would undoubtedly recognize his name and know his reputation. He had no idea where it would go from there, except that he had no desire to sneak out for a clandestine rendezvous. For one, his bedroom was on the second story, making it hard to sneak out(he had figured this out when he was dating Lars) and two, he didn't like to hide things from his family.

He got on his email. Another message from Lars saying how sorry he was, he deleted it without bothering to read it. The rest was spam. Oh, and an email from Alfred saying that he was going to tell dad and that he was going to have to break up with that pervert, now deleted; he then spent the rest of the night curled up with a book.

He heard his mom leave and now knew he had no backup so stayed up in his room. Alfred left a little while later for some party or another Matthew wasn't invited to.

By the time Alfred got back and was ready to have a talk with his brother, Matthew was curled up with Kumajirou on the bed, asleep. He was going to wake him up, but he looked so cute sleeping that he let him be. He locked the window though, so now perverts couldn't get in, especially the one that called himself Matthew's boyfriend, neglecting the fact that they were on the second story.

. . .

By Monday, Matthew thought that Alfred had forgotten because he hadn't mentioned the whole boyfriend situation. He, as usual, did not wake up for his alarm clock, choosing instead to bury himself further in the covers. Finally, Alfred poked his head through the door and said, while munching on a slice of reheated pizza- who has pizza for breakfast anyway- that he's leaving in ten minutes. This prompts his usual hurry to throw clothes on, get ready, pack his backpack, grab something to eat, and slide into the passenger seat of Alfred's car, ready to go. Alfred laughed at his antics and drove to school.

Matthew got out of the car, not knowing when he'd see his boyfriend, hopefully not when his brother was still in the line of sight. He decided to follow his normal routine and went to his locker then his first class. He couldn't help but smile when he saw Francis leaning against the lockers beside the door. He went up to him.

"Hey, Fr-mmgh" He was cut off by Francis' lips against his own. They shared a short but sweet kiss.

"I missed you, mon petit chaton."

"I missed you too." He did nothing to shrug off the arm Francis wrapped around him when he was pulled close, pressed himself against him, blatantly ignoring the school's well-advertised no-PDA policy.

They remained close until the loud bell rang and students began to stream into their classrooms.

"Are you coming to class with me today?"

"I don't suppose I can convince you to skip again."

"Nope. I have college to prepare for."

"Ah, Mathieu, you have to live a little."

"I'd prefer having a good future. Anyway, gotta go. Will I be seeing you at lunch?"

"Of course, mon cheri." Matthew smiled and entered his classroom, then was bored for approximately the next forty five minutes. Followed by math class, where during the lecture, he drew a picture of Francis, looking at the viewer with a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling. Finally, he ripped it out of his notebook and tucked it carefully- no matter how bad it was, he just couldn't crumple it up and toss it away, especially since it was a picture of his boyfriend.

Matthew spent the rest of the morning in eager anticipation of seeing Francis again. He went to lunch, carrying a lunch box his mother packed for him each morning on the premise that her bebe cannot eat that crap. Alfred meanwhile seemed to live off of it.

Then it suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't told Francis where to meet him and since it was a pretty large school, he might have trouble finding him. He entered the quite large cafeteria and hovered at the entrance, looking anxiously for Francis. Finally, Francis found him, striding casually up to him.

"Oh, hi Francis."

"Hello, mon cher. If you would, come outside with me." Matthew followed him into the bright sunlight where Francis had set up an idyllic picnic for them. Matthew smiled.

"This is wonderful Francis."

"I thought you would like it. All the food is authentic French cuisine. Cooked by yours truly."

"Francis, you cooked all of this by yourself?" He marveled at the massive spread of food on the checkered picnic blanket,

"Anything for you. I wish we could have a picnic in my beloved France but I feared you would decline taking a plane to France this instant."

"If I didn't have school, we would be on the plane right now."

"Maybe one day, mon cher."

"That sounds good."

"The food is not just for gawking, go ahead and eat some." The couple sat on the blanket and eagerly consumed the meal.

"Francis, this is amazing."

"Not as good as your crepes."

"Well, pancakes are my favorite food and I do get a lot of practice." Francis smiled at him. He hoped that what he had to say wouldn't ruin their relationship.

"Mathieu, what do you want to do in high school and college? I've been meaning to ask."

"Well, um, I was planning on working in Human Resources."

"In some boring corporate office building. You would be stifled."

"I don't know. I doesn't sound so bad."

"Mathieu, it doesn't fit your personality at all."

"I know. I just want to get a steady job so I can be stable. We are in a recession right now."

"But mon nuage, life is about fulfilling your dreams, please tell me that yours is not to stay in a stuffy office building for the rest of your life."

"Why don't you become an actor? Or an artist? You have amazing talent in both."

"You don't realize how hard it is to become famous and that's the only way you'll be able to support yourself without a job. It's a one in a million chance and I'm not willing to throw my life away for that almost nonexistent chance."

"Well, mon cher, I managed."

"Well, then you're lucky. The point is all but a slim number can't make it as actors and I just can't risk everything."

"What's the point of life without risk?"

"Not that big of a risk. I'm better off with just going to college, getting a nice stable job and spending the rest of my life comfortably." There was a pause. "Sorry for burdening you with my problems. I want to be an actor but I just- I just can't take the risk. I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"Oh, no, its all right, mon cher. I asked." Francis lightly bought the conversation back to lighter topics; this eased his mind a little about what was going to happen but. . .

. . .

Alright, second to last chapter. The last chapter is longer than I thought. I just finished it and it is 4000 words but I didn't know that I was going to throw in NethCan. Have I mentioned that I don't like NethCan? Alright, anyway, so yeah that chapter will be up in the most fourteen days and then I will be finished. It bears saying that there is no persecution of homosexuals in the fic, which is probably in the near future. I posted this chapter a day late because I couldn't get on my computer. My life is really, really complicated right now. Mostly my sister, and I have no idea what to do. Anyway, so last chapter will be posted soon. There may or may not be a sequel, depending on my reviewers and my own inspiration.

This chapter was also Beta'd by Matthew Kirkland Williams.


	6. Chapter 6

"Mathieu, I have something to tell you." They were on another date, this time to a restaurant of Matthew's choosing, it was at an IHOP when Francis finally decided to tell him. Matthew paused, fork laden with syrupy pancake heaven halfway to his mouth. He should have known this would happen. He wasn't cute enough or beautiful enough or smart enough to be Francis' boyfriend so he was breaking up with him. It was completely understandable. Matthew thought that he would probably break up with himself if he was dating himself and he was a different person, all right that was too complicated. Matthew couldn't see why someone like Francis was even dating him anyway. "I still like you and I want to be in a relationship but I need to tell you something. I haven't been completely honest with you, intention wise." Alright, so no break up, but now Matthew didn't understand what was going on.

"Francis, what do you mean?"

"The truth is that all of our relationship has been filmed. It's going to be made into a movie." Matthew didn't know how to respond at first, in fact, he didn't even know whether he understood or not.

"So wait, like our dates and stuff was all filmed?"

"Oui."

"And it's going to be in a movie? Like in the theater."

"Oui." Matthew's eyes began to swell with tears.

"So all of this was just to make a movie?"

"Non, Mathieu, not at all."

"Were you just playing around with my feelings, trying to get the reaction for a box office hit?"

"Non, I thought you'd be happy. You've always wanted to be an actor and here you get a chance to be."

"You don't understand, do you? You have no idea what it's like to grow up when you're just normal. You just thought you could manipulate my feelings for your own profit then just have it all be fine. You're used to getting whatever and whoever you want with no consequence. Do you realize with this movie that you have single handedly ruined my life?"

"How?" He left off the 'mon cher', rather noticeably.

"I'm a senior and filling out college applications. When I'm applying, people will see this movie and see the boy that was sobbing in the dressing room. Not to mention the making out and everything else that happened. No one's going to accept a kid that they could clearly see isn't up to college. Then if I apply for jobs, just a simple Google search of my name will pull up this movie and how am I ever going to get hired? I know you probably don't care about anyone besides yourself but try and see this from my perspective." Francis was speechless for the first time in a long while. "I hope this movie makes enough money that it's worth ruining my life."

Matthew stormed out of there. He knew it, knew that he wasn't good enough for the Francis Bonnefoy. He knew that there had to be something behind the interest in him. And now it turned out that he was being manipulated for the sake of a movie.

He pulled his cell out of his pocket and scrolled through the list of contacts. He had to find someone to come pick him up. Someone that was not his family because that would be extremely awkward, they would wonder what was going on, and he had no desire to hear Alfred's I told you so.

Matthew was partly aware of what he looked like right now, with tears running down his face, blinking copiously so he could see his cell screen clearly. He looked like he had just been broken up with. And he had, but it was worse than that, he had also been betrayed.

With the elimination of his family, he didn't have many options. All of his other contacts had either been project partners for school or didn't have a car. He didn't want to get an adult involved because they might contact his parents. Then he found a name near the end of his contact list, a name he didn't like to think about. It suddenly occurred to him that he still hadn't deleted his name from his contact list and isn't that normal activity for ex's? He toyed with deleting it then remembered that he had a car and he would probably jump at the chance to see Matthew again.

In hindsight, it was a terrible judgment but Matthew wasn't really thinking clearly and he wanted to be away from the restaurant as soon as possible, or just before Francis exited. He clicked the green button and the familiar picture popped up as it dialed. He remembered trying to take the picture. It had taken several tries because he kept showing illegal substances in the picture and if anyone saw that, well, it would not be good. He waited for it to ring and was starting to consider that maybe this was a bad idea and he should just hang up and call someone else when there was a voice on the phone.

"Matt?" And he knew who was calling so he couldn't just hang up now or say it was a wrong number because apparently he didn't delete his number either.

"Hey, Lars. Will you come pick me up?"

"Sure. Where?" His reply sounded incredulous.

"IHOP, the one near my school."

"I'll be there in a couple minutes."

Matthew walked away a couple feet from the IHOP and waited for the familiar car to pull up. He saw the car and waved it over; Lars rolled down his window.

"Come on, Matt, get in." He did as he said, climbing into the driver's seat and buckling his seatbelt.

"Please take me home." Lars started driving.

"Now, Matt. I'm not going to pry or anything like that but I'm here if you want to talk." He nodded, before finally looking out the window. When he saw the surroundings, he was startled.

"You're not taking me home."

"Do you really want to go home looking like that? If you don't want your family to know, they'll find out right away. I thought maybe we could go to my house and you could calm down before we went home. Is that alright?" Matthew nodded. He suppressed the feeling that something was wrong with something else. Thoughts of Francis' betrayal. His future. All of the things he couldn't change. Every mistake he had ever made since he was five, though oddly, it skipped right over a large part of junior year he didn't want to think about right now. He took a minute to reflect upon the futility of life before mentally changing the subject; he never liked to think about all the in depth philosophy. He already felt pretty worthless and when adding in philosophy, it got worse. They pulled up at Lars' house. He swallowed down the bad memories to replace them with more recent pain.

"Where are your parents?"

"Business trip. Where else?" he spat bitterly. Matthew understood that the anger wasn't directed at him, but his parents who weren't often around.

"Bella?"

"Out."

"Alright." He followed him inside and took a seat on their well- worn couch that smelled faintly of marijuana.

"Do you want anything? A joint?" He shook his head.

"I don't do that anymore."

"Beer then?" He shook his head.

"I'm not suggesting you get addicted or something. I'm just saying that alcohol can help dull the pain. It's just like aspirin for emotions. And if you're worried about drinking too much, don't worry, I'll stop you. I never let you OD before." Matthew knew he should probably, really say no to this but he was too convincing, because all Matthew wanted to do was forget. He nodded slowly.

"Only a little bit."

"Fine. I'll go get you some." Matthew sat on the couch, depressed by the recent events. He took the glass that was offered to him and chugged some down before checking to see what kind of alcohol he was drinking. It was strong and burnt his throat on the way down but he already felt the lightheadedness that came with alcohol.

He didn't normally like anything this strong; he usually preferred a nice wine or a cold beer. Though he hadn't drank or smoked marijuana in more than six months. Plus, the strong alcohol helped drown his feelings. He smiled; Lars always knew what would make him feel better. Lars noticed the smile; he had both eyes trained on the delicate Canadian. He would have done anything for a second chance and here it was. He didn't intend to let Matthew get away a second time. He loved the look of Matthew in his house, on his couch, drinking his alcohol and thought he could definitely get used to this.

As selfish as it sounded, he wanted to keep Matthew all for himself. He wanted him to always be there. He had dreams, dreams where he and Matthew were living together in a small flat in any European city; they would spend the day painting, close to the most beautiful art the world over. He figured they would keep moving; maybe Paris, Madrid, his beloved city of Amsterdam, to absorb the city life then move out in the country. The Green Heart of the Netherlands, maybe the French countryside next, he knew Matthew spoke French and would enjoy living there. That way they could paint some landscapes, next maybe the Alps or the Scandinavian Peninsula with its captivating fjords and wonderful landscapes, he knew Matthew liked the snow and that his favorite animal was a polar bear. Next, anywhere in the world was open to them; or at least anywhere Matthew wanted to go.

He had been heartbroken when Matthew left the first time. He tried to tell him how sorry he was and that the flirtatious flip of her skirt and the way it showed flashes of his underwear had just been too tempting for him. He tried to explain to Matthew that he liked skirts and dresses, not girls; just the outfits. He tried to explain that it didn't mean anything, that it was just sex pure and simple. He tried to explain so many times. He tried to suggest a compromise; that if Matthew would just wear more of the skirts and dresses he had meticulously chosen to fit his sweetheart, he wouldn't be tempted. It wouldn't be all the time, just right before sex and it wouldn't be long before Lars diverged him of the clothing. He didn't understand why it was so aversive to Matthew. He had only convinced him to wear dresses a couple times and that was after a great deal of coaxing with the aid of certain substances. He knew Matthew just didn't comprehend it yet, that Lars would do anything for him and all he asked in return was his presence and, sometimes, that he would wear a dress for him.

He returned to watching Matthew, the way he sucked his lip into his mouth in thought and Lars got the urge to reach over and kiss those beautiful, cute lips. He watched the way the tears slid down his face and wanted to brush the tears away, wrap his arms around him, and stroke his hair softly until he felt better. But he couldn't because he knew Matthew would halt his advances quickly. He reached over and tried to quietly refill Matthew's drink. The best way was to stop him from realizing how much he was drinking. He watched as Matthew took another gulp, not realizing that the glass was fuller now.

Matthew had a high tolerance level for alcohol if it was about showing symptoms as he didn't start until after a couple drinks. Unfortunately, after that, he was only a couple sips away from drunk. Matthew was a flirty drunk. When tipsy, he craved contact but was still too sober to act on it. After another drink, he was more than ready to start flirting with the nearest guy nearby. After the next, he began taking off his clothes.

Lars really hoped he'd reach that stage soon. He really needed this. He hadn't had sex in six months and it wouldn't have been the same without Matthew. He figured another refill should do it and subtly completed it. Matthew was showing signs. He had stopped crying and now was more focused on messing with the frayed edges of a blanket. He had his head resting on his shoulder and he had a faint blush dusting his cheeks. He reached and took another swig from his class. Lars couldn't express how thankful he was that Matthew was either too intoxicated or too despondent to notice that his class was never empty. He finished off the glass and set it down with a clink.

Lars figured that now was the time to act. He moved onto the couch, closer to Matthew under the premise of grabbing a joint. After he rolled it and lit it, he started smoking it. He avoided offering it to Matthew, who probably would decline. Instead he ignored him and waited for Matthew to come to him.

It wasn't long before he felt hands on his arm, hands that wrapped themselves around it and a head on his shoulder. He looked down to see an intoxicated Matthew staring up at him. He tried to turn into the hug so Matthew, through the haze of alcohol, realized that he was interested. He felt lips on his neck and looked to see Matthew nibbling on his neck, gazing up at him with sultry looks through the haze of alcohol. He smiled; this is exactly what he wanted. He leaned down and, after tilting Matthew's face up, kissed him.

They had done this before and it was familiar, the way around each other's bodies, their sweet spots, the way Matthew would be too embarrassed to ask him anything he wanted, except when drunk, and Lars would have to guess what it was he wanted. It wasn't long before he picked him up and carried him to his bedroom. Matthew was more of a hindrance than a help, as he kept grabbing and kissing anything that was put near his mouth or his hands. He plopped him on the bed, gently and proceeded to crawl on top of him. He kissed Matthew for several minutes more, hands fumbling with the buttons of Matthew's shirt in the effort to diverge him of it.

Soon enough, he had the shirt off and Matthew shivered from the sudden exposure. Next, he moved down to his pants. He was answered by Matthew pulling away from his mouth and making a whining noise. He soon realized what he wanted and pulled off his own shirt, throwing it somewhere in his room. Matthew didn't like to be less undressed than him.

He continued pulling off Matthew's pants and then his and leaned down to kiss Matthew again. They spent a time intertwined like this before Lars moved the last piece of clothing. He pulled the lube out of his bedside table and turned back toward Matthew who was looking at him eagerly.

. . .

Matthew woke up the next morning when the sun started to stream in his window. His hand went to his head, which was really aching today. Then he realized exactly where he was and what had transpired last night. He sat up quickly and only then became aware of the pain down there. He looked around for Lars, who was nowhere to be found before the door opened and in walked in Lars.

"Goedemorgen, Matt." He let his head fall into his hands and tried to convince himself that this was just a dream and he hadn't done that last night. Lars set the tray he was carrying in front of Matthew, upon it was a plate of pancakes and the authentic maple syrup. He couldn't help smiling just a little bit. Lars would always know what his favorites were. He took the tray and started eating. No matter how much he wanted to leave right now, there was no way he was wasting good pancakes.

Lars came and sat down next to the bed. Finally something occurred to him.

"Oh gosh, what about my parents?"

"I had Bella call them and pretend to be my mom. Don't worry. I told them that we had a project to work on and since it was so late, if you could just stay over." He calmed down after that. The only sounds in the room were the quiet clinks of a fork against a plate. Finally Lars, found the nerve to speak.

"Listen, Matt. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for taking advantage of you last night when you were drunk and I'm sorry for cheating on you. I just- I just like you so much. I thought that if I could remind you of how enjoyable it was to be together, you would come back. I don't know how many times I need to tell you that I'm sorry to get you to forgive me for cheating, I'm sorry, it was a mistake and I sincerely feel bad. I haven't had sex since we broke up. I thought that maybe I could prove to you that I really do like you. She wasn't anything special; it's just you weren't coming around as much and when you were, you were so detached. I don't have any feelings for her. I never talked about moving to Europe so we could paint all of the time with her. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I promise that I'll never cheat again."

Matthew finished his pancakes and set the tray aside.

"Where's my clothes?" Lars tossed him the garments from where they were discarded before and he began throwing them on. "Lars, I really just can't make a decision right now. Life's complicated. I just can't think about it right now. Give me some time. Maybe after exams are over, I'll consider it. Just give me some more time and we'll see."

"Do you need a ride home?"

"No, I can walk." He wasn't sure what to say now, as Matthew walked to the door. Lars decided to blurt out the one thing that he had barely admitted until now.

"I love you." Matthew paused at the door, hand on the knob. Lars really hoped that he would turn around and come back to him. He stood there for a minute before opening the door and walking out.

. . .

Matthew walked away from that place, feeling a twinge in his backside every time he stepped. He couldn't even fathom the colossal mistake he had made. He never should have called Lars, much less gone over to his house, or drunk there or had sex with his ex. It was a good rule of thumb that it was a bad idea to call your ex asking him for a ride from the restaurant where your next ex broke up with you. That's just generally a bad judgment; he headed home. He really hoped that no one would assume that he had been with his boyfriend and they had had sex, which although the sex bit had been true, it was certainly not with Francis. The last thing he wanted was for his parents to find out about that.

A black limo pulls up next to him on the street and he debates between running but remembers that he left his backpack and wanted to get that back. He stops walking as the door opens and he sees Francis.

"Mathieu, what a coincidence. I was just on my way to your house."

"Where's my backpack?"

"Pardon?"

"Where's my backpack?"

"Well, here it is." Matthew walked forward to grab his backpack but it was pulled away by Francis.

"Just give it to me."

"Not until we talk. Please get in." Matthew was tempted to try running but his homework and expensive school textbooks were in the bag.

"Fine." Matthew sat down and waited for Francis to speak.

"Mathieu, I can't tell you how sorry I am that I kept this hidden from you. What happened is that my agent, who says that high school romances are all the rage at the moment and encouraged this. So to find my romantic interest, we had to peruse the actors of Hollywood, unfortunately we found no one suited for the part. It was going to be a high school romance between a famous model and a normal high schooler. There was going to be no script, just a place for the dates to happen. It was a remarkably modern movie technique and we thought it would the next Blockbuster. So my phenomenal agent came up with the idea of filming a real romance, similar to a documentary. I was supposed to find one person that I liked to film this movie with. I chose you. You're beautiful and smart and witty and amazing in every way. Using different cameras, like the ones at school, different footage and more. We made a recreation of the movie. The final scene was me telling you that our relationship was being filmed. But what you said yesterday made sense and so I talked to my agent, the director, and the producer and asked them for something. After looking at all these tapes, they agreed, you have the talent to make it in a movie." Matthew looked at him disbelievingly.

"What are you talking about?"

"My producer has agreed that the company leaving you here would be a waste of talent. They would like to offer you a role in there next movie." Matthew wasn't sure whether to be excited, mad, or skeptical.

"What about this movie?"

"Well, they've agreed since they could probably get sued for movie exploitation by you that we will claim that this movie was filmed with your complete and total consent and that we were the only two actors in the movie." Matthew had no idea how to react to that. "Alright." He strove to keep his tone neutral.

"Mon cher, what do you say?"

"I don't know. Francis, I thought I could trust you and it turns out I can't. I don't know whether I should forgive you or not."

"Mathieu, you must believe me in that my intentions were the best and now I'm trying to ensure that your dreams come true."

"You say that but this movie was all to turn a profit, wasn't it? Is all you wanted the money?"

"I'm going to tell you a story. In the perfect land of France, there was a perfect family, two parents and two children, a brother and a sister. They lived in a bubble of happiness and nothing hurt them. They were too happy in the imaginary world that they played in and that their mother told them about that they never noticed what was going on around them. It barely registered when the father would come home late when he couldn't walk straight. They didn't notice when the mother started taking small white pills every day. They barely noticed when life started to go bad because they were in a world where nothing could touch them. Their world was only disrupted when the sister was sick. The only thing that could save her was money and they didn't have that in that world. The kingdom lost their princess. Now, I want to do whatever will help other children with the same problem."

Matthew reached forward to wrap his arms around him.

"Francis, I had no idea. That was your sister, right?"

"Oui." Francis returned the hug. "That's why I wanted to make the most money. Modeling was first, even though I wanted to be an actor and now that I have the option to be an actor, I wanted to make the movie that would make the most money for cancer research and treatment for children."

"Francis, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Matthew didn't know what to say, he didn't not what to do. He wanted to trust Francis, there was something in the way that he looked at him and it was all his fault, he was the worst one there. Francis had a legitimate reason for everything he did and what did Matthew do, have sex with his ex boyfriend while he was still with Francis, or kind of he guessed, he didn't think they officially broke up. He knew Francis couldn't find out about this, never, because then Francis would leave him. He already thought it was going to happen soon; this was Hollywood, for goodness sakes, and Matthew only had average looks. He looked at Francis, hoping that he wouldn't see the guilt present on his face, in his eyes.

"It's alright, Mathieu. I am the one that made the mistake. Now, Mathieu, mon cher, Hollywood awaits, shall we take it by storm?"

. . .

Alright, I'm finished. This chapter was unbeta'd because I had promised you that I would finish this by the end of February, and so I did. The beta'd one should be up soon. I'm not entirely sure whether I like this or not. I might fix the wording. I hope the plot unfolded well. I hope you review as a reward for me completing this story ;) Plus a sequel may be on the way. I don't know. If so, there's some plot points to pick up, plus if you notice, they're wasn't many Hetalia character cameos, so I could use them in this sequel. Sorry for the NethCan. I don't even know why I put that in there. I just felt like Matthew needed a past for his reluctance for intimacy with Francis and it was a failed relationship. If anyone's confused review and I'll answer your questions. Let's see, oh let me know if you guessed anything was going to happen. Just so you know, the movie I was discussing was the Truman Show. I also thought there may be, if not a sequel, a one shot epilogue with some Franada (I feel bad for depriving you of lemons).

Alright so,

Review, let me know whether you liked it, what you predicted and whether it came true.

Be on the lookout for a sequel or one shot epilogue.

Thanks for reading.

I would like to thank all of those who reviewed: Starry Mind, Yaoi'sWhore, animcatgril123, Alphine, lionluver2005, DarkDeiji, DeiDeiArtistic, sturmgalan, tatterdemalion, Mello18, silent neko-chan, PanicattheDiscoLover, Deep Writer, darkangel78921, x-chesire-puss-x, Mas-kun the Chibi FoxMonkey, MagicHappens, ultimatebishoujo21, china-aruX3, Swiftrivers, goodythreeshoes, Miranda428, Blind Ribbon, and my anonymous reviewer, randomreader424(sounds anonymous). And of course my beta, MatthewKirklandWilliams.

EDIT: Changed the ending. I'm still not entirely happy with it but I hope everyone understands a bit more what's going on.


End file.
